title: The Show Must Go On...


author: nw's chick

Fandom: Batman

Pairing: Dick/Garth

Rating: NC-17

disclaimer: i don't own these fine, fine boys, but i'm nice to them and i feed them well, so...

notes: this follows For Show, written so long ago, i'm sure all have forgotten it... but you can find it here:
http://www.offpanel.net/chick/stories/ForShow.html mucho thanks to rithy for being just so super swell, and being willing to read my silly little fics and let me know when i'm way, way off on stuff...

 

The Show Must Go On...
by nw's chick
~*~


Dick Grayson lay on the floor, flat on his back, motionless. It was Sunday afternoon, there was no crime to be fought that couldn't wait until later, and he was tired. Not bone tired, or weary, or the kind of tired that he got when he was ready to fall apart at the seams. The kind of tired one gets when one has had a full night's sleep. With Garth.

A full and happy night's sleep.

He had agreed to help Tim with his acrobatics this morning, so he'd had a full night's happy sleep, and a morning's exercise. It was time to rest.

Granted, there were better places to do that then flat on one's back on the floor, but that was where he was, so that's where he rested. And anyway, it wasn't so bad. His back was still a little stiff after chasing those punks over the bridge the other night. So many people had tried to explain to him that the best, most efficient route from point A to point B rarely involved doing a quadruple flip from girder onto a moving truck, but he was still unclear on the concept. The hard, flat surface actually felt pretty good; it helped him to stretch out.

Garth peeked in on him from the hall. Dick was lying spread-eagled, all his limbs splayed out as far from his body as he could spread them. It was an interesting position to be in, offering an interesting view. Garth felt... playful. And anyway, he still had to get Dick back for the other week...

"Comfy?"

Dick grinned. "Join me?"

"No, I don't think that that's how this is going to play out, my friend. I think you are going to get out of those shorts. And I want your shoulders to keep touching the floor the whole time."

Dick started, stunned. Garth's demeanor suggested that he was negotiating with a particularly difficult country over ocean mining rights.

Dick had been so looking forward to this...

Sighing, he lifted his hips and pushed down his nylon shorts, not able to push them down too far without sitting up more. Therefore, he had to shimmy the rest of the way, wiggling his hips until the shorts were around his feet. Kicking them away, he lay back, ready for the next set of instructions.

Garth grinned, pleased with the manner in which his instructions were carried out. "Good. Now, lift your shirt up until it is at your shoulder. Good. Now, I want you to tease your nipples. Lightly, just roll them around. Nice. Keep your shoulders down. Thank you. One hand can drift lower, if you like. Your choice as to which. All right, now, I want to hear you. Make some noise, let me know what you are feeling. No words, but let me hear your pleasure."

Dick groaned. Under the best of circumstances, his lover's voice could inspire great things in him, and certainly great passion. This was most definitely the best of circumstances. He wondered if he would come just from hearing Garth tell him to? Probably.

"I want both of your hands lower now. Lower. I want you to raise your ass up a little, let your hands wander all over. Yes. Lower, now, let your fingers tease your sensitive hole... You like that, right? That's what you want, for me to be there with you, making you slick to get ready to take me in, drive you... That's what you want, that's what you are
thinking about, isn't it? Take your erection in hand. *Yes*. Now, pull. Hard. Again. Leave the other hand where it was. Again. *Again*. Come for me, my love. My brat. Come, *hard*."

Who was Dick Grayson to deny the Ambassador from Atlantis?

As a sympathetic citizen, it was his duty to show the Ambassador all due respect and custom.

It certainly was the very least he could do.

"Are you going to clean me up, now, Mr. Ambassador, sir?"

"Haven't we had the conversation about me doing all the cleaning before?" Garth teased, his soft lilt returned.

"You want to let the maid mop me down?"

"...I'll get a washcloth."

Dick grinned. Life was good.

~*~

end